Welcome to my happily ever after...
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hubba hubba!
I just got back from lunch. I live, work, work out, and shop for groceries within a 5 block radius of each other, so I went to Randall's and did my weekly grocery shopping, took them home and put them away, and came back to work within an hour. It's da bomb. I'm just too darn tired to go shop for groceries after work. I can't deal with the crowds. I don't understand why they won't get the hell outta my way. I'm obviously in a hurry to get home and watch Oprah.
Talked to Mom. She said they still aren't done installing the wood floor in their house. Wanna hear something funny? Sit down, it's yet another story.
My dad gets mad at the guys installing the floor because they go in and out the front door carrying materials and leave the door open. Apparently once you get old, you start worrying about things like air conditioning and open doors, because my dad gets mad at them and turns off the air conditioner to punish them, therefore making it 85 degrees in the house. Apparently to keep from passing out from the heat, the workers take their shirts off while they are working to stay cool.
So last night my mom said "You have no idea what it's like coming home every night to a house full of naked Mexicans...".
No, but I'd sure like to find out! Hubba, hubba!
Did I mention how retarded my cat is? When he doesn't like his food that I give him, I'm convinced that he sticks his paw down his throat and gags himself until he throws up (usually on the rug or the couch). When I went home on lunch, he'd left me a present at the front door. I swear, my cat is the reincarnated ghost of Karen Carpenter.12:19 p.m. - 2003-09-10
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